Never Let Me Go
by tateandkyle
Summary: Though the pressure's hard to take, It's the only way I can escape. /Violate Oneshot.


**A/N:**_ Just something I wrote out of boredom, I have far too many Violate feels right now. Trigger warning, mentions of rape and self harm._

* * *

_And the arms of the ocean are carrying me,_  
_And all this devotion was rushing out of me._  
_In the crushes of heaven for a sinner like me,_  
_But the arms of the ocean delivered me._

_Though the pressure's hard to take,_  
_It's the only way I can escape._  
_It seems a heavy choice to make,_  
_And now I am under all._

_And it's breaking over me,_  
_A thousand miles down to the sea bed._  
_Found the place to rest my head,_  
_Never let me go,_  
_Never let me go,_  
_Never let me go,_  
_Never let me go._

* * *

Since Violet had sent Tate away, she had done a lot of thinking. She thought about her suicide, and if it was a mistake. She hadn't meant to overdose; she just wanted to sleep for a while. She hadn't been sleeping well; she was scared of that thing in the basement. She was scared that it was going to come upstairs and finish her off; she was scared of Tate and what he could do to her.

Violet knew that Tate had meant well by trying to scare Leah, but she also knew that he enjoyed it far too much and that she was right. Tate had a dark soul. He enjoyed all of the blood and the pain and the death he caused. Tate was a psychopath. That was her father's official diagnosis. Everybody made sure to stay out of Violet's way, all except for Chad. He knew what it was like to have your heart broken by someone you thought loved you. Patrick, his boyfriend, cheated on him with some guy online. They were planning on starting a family and adopting a baby, but it never happened. Tate drowned Chad and beat Patrick to a bloody pulp before shoving a fire poker up his ass.

That wasn't the only thing Tate had done, he raped Violet's mother, Vivien. She carried his child, only to die a couple of months later giving birth. The 'devil child' as Violet called it survived, her real brother however, died. I suppose in a way it was a good thing, now her family's stuck together in the hell hole, including the new baby. Violet would often sit in her room with Chad, nursing the baby to sleep.

Which was what she was currently doing.

She had been playing peek-a-boo with her little brother and Chad for the past 2 hours. She would usually give Chad the baby for a while, even though Vivien didn't like it. Chad deserved a child, no matter how messed up his life was. Violet hated Chad at first, she hated that he wanted to kill her brother as soon as he was a toddler, so he could raise him as his own. Chad would have made a good parent, he had something a lot of parent's lacked; patience. He would wait for hours on end for the baby to fall asleep, not once complaining. He was the only person in the house who could get the baby to fall asleep. He would sing him a song and bounce him up and down until he finally fell asleep.

"So, has ghost boy been following you lately?" He asked, raising his eyebrows to reveal his tired looking eyes. "Moira said that he's been sulking around the kitchen and basement recently, crying and punching walls."

Violet frowned, "No. I told him to go away, remember?" She grabbed the glass of wine Chad had given her and finished the rest of the glass. If she was going to talk about Tate, she would have to be half drunk.

"Ghosts don't stay away forever, trust me." He chuckled slightly, "If I had money for every time I told Pat to go away and he appeared a day later begging me to forgive him, I'd be rolling in money."

"Are you okay watching the baby for a while? I promised Beau that I'd play with him today."

"Of course," Chad waited until Violet was almost out the door before he spoke up again. "Be careful Violet, you know that he likes playing with Beau too." Violet nodded, gave Chad a small smile and made her way to the attic.

When she stepped into the attic, she knew Tate was there even though she couldn't see him. He done that a lot, he would follow her around the house and sometimes he would watch her whilst she was sleeping. Chad had seen him sitting at the end of her bed for hours, not once moving. Violet knew he was doing it because he loved her and wanted to protect her, that's why she let him do it.

"You ready to play, Beau?" She asked, sitting down on front of Beau's bed. As soon as she sat down, the small red ball rolled out, stopping on front of her leg. She picked it up and rolled it back, enjoying the noises of Beau laughing. Violet felt bad for him, but at the same time she felt happy. Beau didn't have to go through all of the stuff the others did, he was happy playing with his ball. He didn't even know he was dead. Just as Violet was about to roll the ball back, she felt a warm draft on her neck. She knew it was Tate.

It was always Tate.

"I know you're there Tate, so you can either stop hiding or go somewhere else. I don't really care," Violet said, rolling the ball back to Beau. She knew Tate had come out of hiding because Beau said an audible 'Tate' followed by a clap of his hands. Tate was the only person in the house expect for Violet who wasn't afraid of Beau, all of the other thought he was a threat to them.

"Vi, I'm so sorry—"

"—don't call me that." Violet shook her head and frowned. "I don't want to hear your apologies, you don't deserve my forgiveness. You don't deserve anything." She turned to face him, her face was emotionless. His blonde hair was the exact same as the last time, if anything, it had gotten curlier. He was still wearing his ridiculous thumb ring that Violet hated so much.

He had been crying recently, his eyes were still red and puffy. His voice was rough when he talked to her, probably from lack of water. He would always lock himself away, that way he would die from either starvation or dehydration. Her mother said he deserved it, he had ruined her family, and the least he could do was die a slow and painful death. Violet knew he still loved her, and she loved him. That's why she hated herself so much, that's why she would still drag the razor over her skin and cry herself to sleep every night. Her mother knew she still loved Tate, but she didn't hate her. She said that they were the same in a way, even though her father had done terrible things, her mother still loved him. Like Violet loved Tate.

It was a messed up kind of love, but it was still love.

"I want to know why you did it," Violet said, turning to face him. She knew that he understood what she was saying; after all, she had asked him it at least 100 times before. Each time, he would change the subject, leaving Violet clueless. "I want to know why you shot those kids and killed Chad and Patrick," She paused. "I want to know why you raped my mother."

Tate nodded and swallowed hard, "It was for Nora. She wanted a baby and those queens couldn't give her one. I promised her that I would give her a baby. I wasn't planning on having sex with her that night; I only went in to scare her. I know you probably don't believe me, but I would never rape your mother, not even for Nora."

Violet laughed, "No, you only got her pregnant and killed her." Violet picked up the ball and rolled it back to Beau, smiling slightly when he made a noise. "Why did you kill those kids? And I swear to god, if you give me that stupid 'I don't remember' then I'll send you away for good."

"You know why, you read my file, Vi." He frowned and picked at the hole in his jeans making it bigger. "But if you want me to tell you, I will." Violet nodded and he continued, "I could lie and say that it was the house or the voices, but at the end of the day. I killed those kids, _me_, not the house or the voices. _I_ killed them Vi, and I don't even know why. I just remember walking in with the gun and shooting those kids, even when they begged me not too, I still shot them."

He wiped the tear from his cheek, "I felt like I was talking them somewhere clean and safe, I felt like I was saving them. I think I don't remember very much of it because it felt like a dream, the guns weren't heavy and I didn't even hear them go off. It was like one of those silent movies, I didn't hear them scream or cry for help. I only heard the sound of their bodies hitting the floor."

She was crying too, she had never heard the story from his point of view. Last Halloween she talked to the kids he shot in the library; all of them seemed like good kids. They told her that in order for them to pass on, Tate had to admit to killing them. That's why they chased him that night on the beach. They only wanted answers. Violet wrapped her hand around Tate's fist and nodded for him to continue. "And then, when I got home, Constance knew what I had done. Addie wasn't there; she was with one of the neighbours. Constance was screaming and crying and telling me to hide but it was too late, the S.W.A.T team showed up and it was too late. I reached for the unloaded gun and before I got the chance to raise it, they shot me."

Violet couldn't talk; there was a lump in her throat that wouldn't go away. Her hair was sticking to her cheeks with her tears and her eyes felt heavy. She could hear Beau crying for the ball but she didn't give it back, instead, she reached over and hugged Tate. Her arms wrapped around his waist and she buried her head into his chest. "I'm so sorry, Violet. I tried to protect you but I couldn't, and that kills me. I was,—I was supposed to save you, look after you and I couldn't." He kissed her forehead, "I'm so sorry, Violet." He hid his face in the crook of her neck, "Please, don't leave me again. I promise I'll never hurt you or anyone again, I swear. Just please don't send me away."

Violet slowly pulled away from Tate and looked up, taking him in. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks were stained with tears. Violet hated seeing him like this, but at the same time, it made her feel again. Before she changed her mind, she quickly kissed him on the cheek. "I'll see you later."

Tate sniffed and nodded, "I love you, Violet."

She didn't say it back, even though she desperately wanted to. Instead, she gave his hand a small squeeze before going back downstairs. She knew that she couldn't forgive him, but she could at least try. After all, no one deserves to be alone.

Not even Tate.


End file.
